Life Before Damaged, Vol. 1 Read Online Free
things that shouldn’t be thought, clutching a crumpled plastic cup in one hand and my cell in the other.
Did I really just imagine what it would feel like to have sex with—eck—Pete Ferro?
Where’s my mental Lysol? That’s so gross. Of all people, I swoon over the most notorious asshat. It's a well-known fact that he sleeps with every woman he comes into contact with and punches whatever guy gets in his way. Just the thought of him would make any respectable girl like myself slap on a chastity belt, throw away the key, and run for the hills. Guys like him can’t be trusted. They’re all smiles and sweet-talk until the panties drop. When the conquest is over, they’re gone. From what I’ve heard about Pete, Red is going to be old news as soon as he zips his fly.
With my eyes still on Pete and his newest conquest, I watch them straighten their clothing. He turns around and that's when I recognize him—the dark messy hair, the shocking blue eyes, and the cocky self-satisfactory grin on his stubbly face. Damn. He’s hotter than I thought. The way the light falls across his face makes him look like an angel, freshly fallen. Shadows play across his eyes, making him look like he should be the Wikipedia entry for SINFUL. The pictures I've seen of him in the tabloids and gossip columns are lacking. They don’t reveal that combustible aura about him, like his errant glance could cause you to erupt in flames at any second. He’s male perfection on the outside, from his freshly fucked hair down to his tight firm butt in those slim-fitting jeans. Too bad he’s an asshole.
Pete’s lazy gaze scans the room and connects with mine just as my eyes drift past his hips. My spine goes ramrod straight and my stomach flips. Oh crap! He's looking straight at me. He holds my gaze, offering a crooked grin that becomes devilish.
I gulp and force my gaping mouth shut. He knows I’ve been watching. He knows I saw everything. That look, the way he devours me with his eyes, makes my palms sweat and fires up parts of me I wish it wouldn’t. Pete scans my body up and down, as if I’m his next meal. I feel naked, despite my clothes. My insides quiver and I let out a shaky breath. He’s trying to rattle me, but I refuse to let him. My gaze remains on him, eyes narrowed, and obviously not interested.
At least not interested in him. The concept of being desired like that is what caught my attention. The fact that the man is Pete Ferro makes me wish I followed Erin into the crowd. Besides, a guy like that isn’t serious. He’s a one-off, a fling. I want steady and I found a steady guy. He’s the most brilliant up-and-coming doctor on the East Coast. But while I’m proud of him, while he’s everything I wanted, I’ve never been with him like that. Passion isn’t something we do. So when Pete checks me out, my heart stops. I’m the polar opposite of the woman in his arms. Why is he even looking at me?
That’s when Pete winks and throws his head to the side slightly, an invitation to join them.
Not him, THEM.
My thoughts shatter, clanging on the floor like a dropped gong. Every single piece of my previous lust—or whatever that was—drops into my shoes. Blinking twice, I stiffen as my jaw flaps open. Heat flashes through me, streaking across my face and over my chest, and pooling in my belly. I ignore that last part.
I just, I can't even… Is he really inviting me over for a threesome? Who does that?
Disgusted, and slightly mortified, I look away. Damn it! We were in a visual tug-of-war and I lost. I slap my mouth shut and push my way through the crowd. Sweaty bodies bump into me, and there’s an occasional pair of hands that grabs hold of my hips before I manage to break away. I may have growled at one guy, who immediately released me. I suspect Pete would have held on tighter. Freak.
My stomach is still in a suspended motion, like I’m walking on Mars. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I
Did I really just imagine what it would feel like to have sex with—eck—Pete Ferro?
Where’s my mental Lysol? That’s so gross. Of all people, I swoon over the most notorious asshat. It's a well-known fact that he sleeps with every woman he comes into contact with and punches whatever guy gets in his way. Just the thought of him would make any respectable girl like myself slap on a chastity belt, throw away the key, and run for the hills. Guys like him can’t be trusted. They’re all smiles and sweet-talk until the panties drop. When the conquest is over, they’re gone. From what I’ve heard about Pete, Red is going to be old news as soon as he zips his fly.
With my eyes still on Pete and his newest conquest, I watch them straighten their clothing. He turns around and that's when I recognize him—the dark messy hair, the shocking blue eyes, and the cocky self-satisfactory grin on his stubbly face. Damn. He’s hotter than I thought. The way the light falls across his face makes him look like an angel, freshly fallen. Shadows play across his eyes, making him look like he should be the Wikipedia entry for SINFUL. The pictures I've seen of him in the tabloids and gossip columns are lacking. They don’t reveal that combustible aura about him, like his errant glance could cause you to erupt in flames at any second. He’s male perfection on the outside, from his freshly fucked hair down to his tight firm butt in those slim-fitting jeans. Too bad he’s an asshole.
Pete’s lazy gaze scans the room and connects with mine just as my eyes drift past his hips. My spine goes ramrod straight and my stomach flips. Oh crap! He's looking straight at me. He holds my gaze, offering a crooked grin that becomes devilish.
I gulp and force my gaping mouth shut. He knows I’ve been watching. He knows I saw everything. That look, the way he devours me with his eyes, makes my palms sweat and fires up parts of me I wish it wouldn’t. Pete scans my body up and down, as if I’m his next meal. I feel naked, despite my clothes. My insides quiver and I let out a shaky breath. He’s trying to rattle me, but I refuse to let him. My gaze remains on him, eyes narrowed, and obviously not interested.
At least not interested in him. The concept of being desired like that is what caught my attention. The fact that the man is Pete Ferro makes me wish I followed Erin into the crowd. Besides, a guy like that isn’t serious. He’s a one-off, a fling. I want steady and I found a steady guy. He’s the most brilliant up-and-coming doctor on the East Coast. But while I’m proud of him, while he’s everything I wanted, I’ve never been with him like that. Passion isn’t something we do. So when Pete checks me out, my heart stops. I’m the polar opposite of the woman in his arms. Why is he even looking at me?
That’s when Pete winks and throws his head to the side slightly, an invitation to join them.
Not him, THEM.
My thoughts shatter, clanging on the floor like a dropped gong. Every single piece of my previous lust—or whatever that was—drops into my shoes. Blinking twice, I stiffen as my jaw flaps open. Heat flashes through me, streaking across my face and over my chest, and pooling in my belly. I ignore that last part.
I just, I can't even… Is he really inviting me over for a threesome? Who does that?
Disgusted, and slightly mortified, I look away. Damn it! We were in a visual tug-of-war and I lost. I slap my mouth shut and push my way through the crowd. Sweaty bodies bump into me, and there’s an occasional pair of hands that grabs hold of my hips before I manage to break away. I may have growled at one guy, who immediately released me. I suspect Pete would have held on tighter. Freak.
My stomach is still in a suspended motion, like I’m walking on Mars. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I
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